As the sun begins to clear the top of the mesa canyons, JoshBender throws back a swig of Red Bull and slaps Ben-Gay on hisarms. Sitting on his Karpiel Apocalypse, which is suped up withfull front and rear suspension, he studies the dusty red abyssbelow and, without fanfare, yanks on the handles and from a nearstationary position throws himself over a 40-foot cliff.

Asked why anyone would do such a thing, Bender, 27, replies, "Ido it because it's there." That cliche has worked for thethousands who have climbed Mount Everest, but few have dared tohurl themselves over a precipice on a mountain bike for the sakeof big air.

A brazen 5'6" version of Fred Durst, Bender admits that in theless-than-sane sport of freeride mountain biking, he's as crazyas they come. "My brain got rewired somehow," he says. "I'm on atotally different level. Other guys won't try anything beyond 20feet. No one gets what I'm doing. For me, the sky is wide open."His cult success has prompted biking fans to call any gnarly,mangling act "a Bender."

He started pushing the limits of extreme freeriding 2 1/2 yearsago, when he hucked himself off 15-foot drops, crushing a dozen$199 bikes that he'd bought in bulk from Costco (Each wassmashed after one jump.) Bender holds the freeriding record witha 60-foot jump off the Jah Drop in Kamloops, B.C., and says hisgoal is to stick a 100-footer. (His bike is now modified withspecial shocks and springs.) Just for the hell of it he alsoplans next year to duplicate three of Evel Knievel'sstunts--clearing the fountains at Caesars Palace, 14 Greyhoundbuses in Canton, Ohio, and 13 buses at Wembley Stadium inLondon. The plan is for him to be towed by motorcycle and torelease the rope about 20 feet before the jumps.

Bender says he has "been on the extreme since birth," and that heand his older brother, Dusty, have always loved bikes and"pushing the limits." At age 18 Bender left his hometown in NorthPole, Alaska, to study at Fort Lewis College (Durango, Colo.),which had awarded him an academic scholarship. (He's 24 creditsshy of a degree in criminal psychology.) An accomplished kayakerand downhill skier, he finally settled in Virgin, Utah, 10 milessouth of Zion National Park, because of its big air zones andcreative energy. "If I die on a bike, it will be plainstupidity," he says. "I plan on having a long, fulfilling life.When I die, I'll do it on my own terms, in a nice, warm bed whenI'm sleeping."

--Yi-Wyn Yen

COLOR PHOTO: JAMES LOZEAU/MSPCOLOR PHOTO: PHOTOGRAPH BY JOHN GIBSON Tire pressure Many of his rivals won't jump farther than 20 feet, but the brazen Bender routinely attempts--and sticks--such eye-popping 60-footers as this one off Jah Drop in British Columbia.

Before he became the premier postseason performer of his generation, the Patriots icon was a middling college quarterback who invited skepticism, even scorn, from fans and his coaches. That was all—and that was everything